At Versailles
by Wanda Wilson
Summary: Synopsis: The end of the war. Wonder why they call it that? Nothing "Great" about it...rated T for cursing, mentioning of violence, and just plain sad.


The 28 of June year 1919.

It was an unbelievably gloomy color of gray. The room was dark and spacious. There was a long table and the dim hollow room held only a small few. On one side sat a young blonde man. He was beat up and bruised all over. He scorned and hissed staring at the other bodies in the room with complete hatred. On either side of him stood four guards on strict orders to shoot him if he moves a muscle. Although, it would be impossible the blonde man's arms and legs were chained to his seat and his mouth held duck tape over it.

The other side of the room stood a few others. Three blondes one of which was badly injured with a broken leg. There was also a platinum blonde and a black haired man wearing a black navy uniform. They all held solemn and saddened faces. As though they didn't want to do this but, it was to happen. The room was quiet for the majority of time until the youngest out of the five bellowed out breaking the silence.

"My Boss has made a speech stating the fourteen points we will need to consider as we...ahem...punish him", he paused. "Although I am the youngest here and in fact I haven't fought as long as the rest of you we should give him a break", the blonde stared at the broken man scowling at him. He felt nothing but, pity upon him. Something the man didn't want. Pity. It was self loathing and useless to him.

"America with all do respect, you are nothing but, a child who has nothing to do with this anymore. We appreciate your help in the long run but, I think we all agree that you should stay out of European affairs", the blonde with thick eyebrow interrupted. He drank his tea and ignored everyone entirely.

"Just a couple hundred of years ago we were brothers...so now were strangers? When will you let that go?!", America slammed his fist on the table. realizing he was being over emotional he sighed heavily and calmed himself down.

"Brothers? If I remember correctly you said 'I am not your little brother'", the British man scoffed.

"I am sick ov your leetil lovers spat. We 'ave more important zings to go over!", the Frenchman harshly remarked. The other blondes settled down and the room returned to its former silence. The young man in black then rose up.

"I have nothing to do with zis anymore. I shalru take my reave now. When you considel me youlru equalru I will leturn.", he bowed thanking them for the land they gave him and marched out. He was very dignified, polite, and very formal. It wasn't soon after until the platinum blonde was asked to leave.

"Now Russia you know that we know about your agreement. After dropping out of the war we have come to an agreement that you are not allowed to have a say in this", the youngest stated. Russia only smiled and nodded. They all felt bad for him. It seems this last war has done more damage than he could ever handle. Mentally and physically it was shocking but, he began to murder his own people. All nations knew that this was self harming also known as suicide. He broke down having to withdraw from the war and Russia was no more. He was becoming someone else entirely. It was a frightening thing to see a fellow country go through this but, it was something that happens.

The meeting continued.

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"You may speak now", Britain motioned for one of the guards to rip the duck tape off. The blonde gentleman grunted in pain. "Mr. Ludwig formerly known as the German Empire do you understand our terms and conditions?", he was referring to the Treaty. It was unfair and completely went against what America said however the nation didn't even speak out for him. No one did. German was alone his allies left him to be punished by, the UK and France.

"Where is Austria?", was all the former empire said.

"'e and 'iz wife are now signing for a divorce. You will 'ave nozing to do with zem.", France smirked. His normally beautiful face was twisted with bruises and a devious grin. He was enjoying this.

"This is unfair! I demand to see my allies!", the blonde cried out. He was a tough one refusing to accept defeat down until the last day.

"You have none!", England yelled slamming his hand against the table. America closed his eyes. He wanted to cry but, he was strong and had seen things more horrid than this. He wasn't a victim he was the murderer. Responsible for tearing this nation apart. He as well as the others let this happen. He knew he should stop these two yet, they have been through so much in this war that America could not oppose.

At that moment a knock came at the door. It was soft but, due to the echo was enough to quiet everyone. America asked who it was.

"It's...it's North Italia...", the voice was soft and shaky. Everyone knew it had to be him only countries were allowed in this place besides the usual guards. France granted him access. Upon entering Italy was instantly gloomy. He saw the bruises everyone was dressed in and the sadden faces they wore. This was what war did to people. This is why he hated war. "I've come to see my friend, Germany", Italy was scared, Germany was bound to hate him. He betrayed him. He didn't mean to though he had no control over anything.

"Come in", America mumbled and left, he had to catch a plane and go home he couldn't stand to sit in that room any more he had more things going on at home. His house was booming with fun and inventions and just new things. He decided to take the advice England gave and stay out of foreign affairs.

"Germany...ima so so very sorry", Italy had tears in his eyes. He was so scared. He looked into the Germans pale blue eyes and saw a broken man. Not the man he made friends with or sang to or cooked with or even recognized. "Germany?".

"Italia...your my friend right? You wouldn't leave me right? Tell them. Tell them the war isn't over..we're still fighting!", Germany smiled. Not a happy smile or a sad one. It showed no emotion at all. Italy cried he let go of Germany's shoulder and held himself close. He shook his head and never looked at Germany again. He secretly hoped Germany would be mad and yell at him like usual but, Germany didn't yell. He wasn't his Germany. Italy abruptly left. No good byes or anything. He just left.

"Eetz over...", France announced. It was only Germany, England, and himself in the room plus guards. France say down after standing for a long time. His injuries needed to heal. He was spiteful that his beautiful body and country was ruined it such devastating ways. "Poor Germany all your allies abandoned you. Ze Ottoman Empire iz dead. Poof gone. But, what about us? Eh? We suffered too. You killed a lot of my men. I don't appreciate that.", France lit a cigarette as well as England who stood up. His eyes cold and lifeless. Something that always happened to every nation during and after war. The emotion of their people, their cries and lost ones filled every nation to the brim. Filled with sorrow and hatred.

"We need money so along with all the stuff in this treaty here", England leaned in close blowing smoke in the Germany's face. "You will pay war reparations at about hmm I don't know 132 billion marks", England smiled coldly.

"VHAT?! No vay in hell can I pay zat off!", Germany exclaimed. He could feel his economy dropping he began to run a fever. He was being ruined. He couldn't have a large army or a navy, he couldn't have colonies, and he had to pay a ridiculous amount of money. Germany grew quiet he allowed one tear to fall gracefully down his face. He hung his head in shame. Finally realizing that fact that the war was over. He lost. England and France instantly felt like monsters for what they did but, kept a straight face and left the room. Ordering the guards to take him home and admit him into a hospital to get treated. They complied.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Eliza-ahem I apologize I mean

Ms. Hungary", Austria corrected himself. "Do you need any help?", he offered. Hungary was in the living room packing up her stuff. Her back facing him. She hasn't said one word to him since the signing of the divorce. "Ms. Hungary?".

"Don't call me zat Roderich...it hurts...being so distant", Hungary held back her tears. She hasn't cried once since the end of the war. It really worried Austria she was the only marriage partner he actually cared about this way. In a way he loved her and in someways even more than his precious music. He felt the same way she did. Hurt that after so many years of being together she was leaving just like that. Never allowed to come back.

"This is when de camera was invented...", Hungary smiled. She pointed to the photo album she kept a few of them. Most of them were filled with Austria though. "Here this is Italy's first camera! Haha he took so many pictures that day", she laughed reminiscing.

"Yes. I remember vividly He vas very...annoying", Austria became nostalgic. "I hope zhat kid vould be alright...I didn't vant him to be apart of this Var. Yet, I've sacrificed Germany...", Austria bald his hand into a fist. "I've hurt him and led left him for dead once again Eliza...", there was a deep sadness in his voice.

"Roderich will you play me one last song before I leave? If I'm not allowed to see you for a while I want to hear your beautiful sound one last time please", Hungary begged. Austria would never turn her down he got up and they walked the halls. It was empty and quiet. Again Roderich would be living in such a large house alone. "Hee hee the painting Italy drew the mustache on! Haha you look so good with a mustache it's really handsome!", she tried to control her laughter but, ended up letting it all out. Austria let her laugh as though that was the way she was coping with this. She continued to recall every last detail and memory from the house. Everyone that's lived in the house and such on.

Upon finally reaching the music room Austria sat at the piano and Hungary handed him a song he composed after the Holy Roman Empire left. It was sad and slow. Very sorrowful. Austria watched Hungary's expression but disturbingly she showed none. Just her regular happy face.

Perturbed he attempted to play to song out well to its full potential to get her to cry but, it all proved in vain as she still did not shed a single tear. Left with nothing else he stopped ascending from his chair to walk over to his sheet music. The song he was playing was a bit too sad and wasn't a good going away song. So he played a faster paced happier song. again it wasn't working out how he hoped. Annoyed he decided to look for a better option that's when he saw it.

"Elizavatha...", he paused waiting to see if se was listening she hummed accordingly. "Do you remember vhen ve vere getting used to each other and Italy was still a small little thing?", Hungary nodded she remembered the first time she met the Italy brothers she thought they were girls they were so adorable. It was a happy time. It was before they were married but, she was living with him and he treated her as if they were married he was kind and gentle something that no man was ever like to her before.

"That day we had a full house. Filled to the brim with the respectful nations that formed the Holy Empire.", Hungary smiled as she remembered. "Remember when that little boy decide to make an 'announcement'", Hungary laughed while nodding Austria sighed dramatically.

"I remembered he said 'I love everyone being together its so nice teehee I wish we could be like this forever!'", She mocked his voice perfectly. "And then he forced you to play a song it was a wonderful piece but, I don't remember what it was called...", Hungary trailed off trying to remember.

"Elizavetha...", Austria called. Hungary answered with a 'yes'. "No, the song tittle...it vas called Elizavtha", Austria confessed his eyes were serious meaning he wasn't just joking. Hungary's face flushed.

"M-me? After my name?", she questioned and Austria nodded.

"I composed such a beautiful song so naturally it needed a beautiful name", he smiled half embarrassed. "It's also about you", he continued. Hungary was shocked she never knew it was about her maybe that's why Austria never told her the name of the song. Her eyes sparkled and Roderich just knew. It was the perfect song for her. He remembered at the time he was so ashamed of it but, now it's something that grew on him.

He began to play. The song was beautiful it was soft and lovely it reminded Austria of how she looked her long pretty soft hair and voice. The way she smiled and fluttered her dress. The sweet way she smelled. The song grew faster and louder. It reminded Austria of her inside how she was strong and loyal she was a good person. Someone he was glad he met and glad to have married. Hungary closed her eyes listening to the sound as if it were speaking to her. She felt what he felt as he also closed his eyes.

The song grew to a close. It was a silent conversation on agreement. They felt if they were taking they both would have something something along the lines of "although, it was short, I enjoyed it thank you very much". Hungary finally cried. It started out as a hiccup but, grew loud enough for Austria to get out of his seat and embrace Hungary. Patting her head and letting her soak and ruin his shirt he didn't care he just wanted to comfort her. Anyway he could. They stayed like that until it was time for her to leave.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

After being in the hospital for a long time each day he was getting worse. His economy was at an all time low. His brother visits him daily and does his work for him. Austria and Hungary visit often but, always at separate times since they are being watched as to not make any more plans for war they are not allowed to be all together. Not once did Italy visit him though. He only wished that Italy would maybe come around often. He would be happier even by a little bit for just a little while he wanted to see that smile once more. Some friend Italy was. He felt done for and was waiting for death. He failed. He failed his country, he failed his people, he failed his boss, he failed Austria, he failed himself, and he failed Italy. He felt like just one big failure.

"Hello Germany", Austria entered the room. "I've brought a man along who wants to help you", he motioned the man to come into the room. He was an odd man short and black hair with a strange mustache. Upon seeing the blonde blue eyed nation the other smiled.

"Hello Ich bin Hitler. Adolf Hitler. Ich werde Füher", he smiled kindly a strong arrogance surrounded him. He seemed confident and intelligent. German bowed in respect he felt it was ok to put his life and country in this mans hands. Oh how he could be so wrong at times.

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Author's Notes: Thank you for reading my first fanfic about Hetalia! Um yeah I don't think I'm going to finish it. The plot just came to mind. It's not really accurate obviously somethings that were mentioned happened a bit later on but the general idea is the treaty and fall of the German empire to its rebuilding and Hitler's brown jackets.

Please Review.


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